Yes, folks, it’s that time again. What time is that? Kids are back in school. Yay! I can finally cruise the malls (without eye-rolling teenagers bouncing the halls). Snagging all the sizes I just happen to wear. Inevitably convenient. And…
Football is back. Woohoo! And… so is fantasy football. *Sigh… I hate fantasy football.
Before you rage in a fit of anger and start commenting about how important this is in the schism of your existence. Don’t. I don’t care. She doesn’t. I’ll likely have the comment marked as spam and it will never see the light of day anyway. See, she doesn’t. Just a typing of waste on your end, shall you proceed. Told you, she doesn’t. Wah. Just saying.
That being said and In the spirit of my loathing, I’m going to start my own fantasy league. Fantasy Foosball Maids. What? Oh yeahhh…
Fantasy football literally kills me inside. Waste of time. I am not going to make many friends with this post and frankly, maybe it’ll weed out the weak. Wah. Cry babies. You know like when your fake team has an injured player and he’s out the rest of the year and like, I don’t know, somehow ruins your whole life. Is this all you’re worth? Maybe. And now you’re going to cry. Oh DEAR… you ARE really crying.
I can’t watch.
So, If you can take a joke, great. Or not. Either way… Keep reading. *shrugs
Just like the fake football fantasy everyone, but me plays; it’s more likely that I’m just
Fantasy football is a fake team. And the team of ‘foosball maids’ is real? Stay with me. It’s everyone’s individual picks of REAL players on their PRETEND team with points that add up (or subtract) at the end of the season and… it’s big business. Gamblers anon anyone? My measly opinion isn’t worth unicorn poo. Nope. People can make some serious dough playing that stuff though. With unicorn poo? Uh no. It has glitter in it, you know. Pay attention. But, look if you’re going to look at me for a conversation –don’t– on your pretend team –seriously, don’t– with real players who would not EVER all play on one said team. Just… don’t. EVER.
What the devil are you saying woman?
Hmmm…
Well, maybe you’re on to something here.
Oh I am. I so am.
Pick up that duster sweetheart and get those blinds dust-free. You gotta foosball tournament in an hour.

